Brave
by MagickCirclet
Summary: Legolas learns what it means to be brave.
1. Default Chapter

Author's note: This definition is unfinished. There will be another chapter to this particular story, as well as four more definitions of 'brave'. I hope you like it!

Additional stories in this series:

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Abandon

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Brave: Dealing with danger, pain, or difficult situations with courage and confidence

"This is going to go over quite badly with Ada," Elladan commented. Legolas looked at him, shocked. Elladan shrugged. "It is." Perhaps the boys had been acting stupid. But then, Legolas had not intentionally tumbled down the hill, had not intentionally pulled Elladan after him, and had not intentionally gotten them trapped in the ravine. They had been out hunting elk, not too far from Imladris, the twins and Legolas. They had been teasing him about this and that, and Legolas had felt somewhat angry with them: just because he was younger did not mean they could laugh at him. So when he had challenged them to contest their bravery, Elrohir had at once repented, but Elladan rose to it.

The tree had been fallen by lightning, judging from the stump, and it had certainly been old. A jagged crack zigzagged along the centre of it. It had been a tree of great length, and so rested one end on either side of the ditch: the first, where the boys had started, a precarious ledge dropping straight down to the bottom of the ravine in which they now rested. The opposite bank, a fair distance away, was a steeply inclined hill, leaving a drop of perhaps forty feet to the ravine floor. Legolas had gazed about, seeking a decent challenge, and his gaze fell at last upon the log. "There," he said, shielding his eyes from the sun and pointing, "that log ought to do."

Elladan had gone first, acting fearless. Legolas had gone after, telling himself again and again, "Don't look down, just don't look down…" All had been going well until he looked down. The ground was terribly far away and…and…Legolas began to wobble. A cry rose in his throat but he bit it back. His footing slipped on his next step and he reached out, frantically grabbing hold of Elladan's tunic. And so the boys had tumbled off the log, fallen onto the soft grass, and before they could stop themselves tumbled down the hill to the ravine below. Elrohir had called down to them, and hearing that they were all right had gone to fetch help.

Legolas raised his water-skin to his lips and drank. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he replied, "And on my head be it." He was a bit afraid of Lord Elrond, to be quite honest. Legolas had always been something of a good boy and so was unused to seeing grown-ups angry, not like bold, defiant Elladan. He was about to take another drink when Elladan stopped him.

"Legolas, you know water keeps us alive. Have a care with it; we have not much and cannot say how long we will be here." There was a tremor of fear to Elladan's voice, and Legolas felt his eyes grow wide. "You look much akin to a frog," Elladan said, and Legolas quivered. "Oh, there now," said the older boy not unkindly, "Elrohir will help us, but only remember that we have walked near four hours today, and he must journey back home and return. We are in no great danger, save that of boredom." Legolas nodded uncertainly. "Why not take some rest? You will be safe, I promise, and the hours will pass more swiftly." This Legolas took gladly, and in moments was sleeping, curled in the leaves beside the rock upon which Elladan sat.

The next thing he knew he was being shaken awake. "Legolas. Legolas!"

"Wha--"

"Shh!" Elladan hissed, then whispered, "I heard something animal in the distance." The sun had sunk below the horizon, or perhaps was simply not visible because they were in the ravine. "It may be nothing, but you must be wary." Legolas knew the implications of this speech: neither boy had taken his bow across the log, and so they were left defenseless. Well, not quite: Elladan had the knife he kept with him, and Legolas quickly filled his pockets with the sharpest stone he could find. It was only when Elladan stood and Legolas saw him stumble that the younger boy realized that Elladan had been hurt.

"Are you…?"

"It is nothing," replied Elladan. Another growl was heard in the distance, and, to their horror, a pair of yellow eyes appeared up the ravine. Legolas backed away, and Elladan suddenly felt it his duty to protect the youth. "Come here, Legolas," he whispered, and drew the boy behind him. Elladan had taken an offensive stance with his knife in hand, glaring at the glowing pinpoints of light in the distance. His palms were sweating with fear and his side hurt where he had landed on a sharp rock after the fall, but he tried his best to be brave, if only for Legolas's sake. It was only one animal; he could take it. A tug on his sleeve broke his concentration. "What?" he asked, looking back at Legolas, who could not speak, only point. "Iluvatar help us," muttered Elladan. Two eyes had appeared down the ravine. They were surrounded. "Legolas, get ready," Elladan warned. Legolas gripped two of his rocks tightly. "Let them move first."

And they did. Half a moment passed before the two lunged with perfect synchronization. Legolas cried out and threw both of his rocks at once: one of them clipped the wolf's ear; the other flew wide by at least three feet. The wolf was not at all put off by this and kept coming. Elladan, meanwhile, had slashed out at the perfect moment, cutting a gash from the wolf's jaw to his throat, but not deep enough to kill. Had his strike not gone astray the animal would have died, in the dim light, though, a perfect blow would have been a matter only of chance. With a cry the animal twisted but it kept coming; Elladan plunged forward and his knife sank into the creature's throat as teeth sank into his arm. The hot, sticky wetness of blood gushed over him: the wolf's, not his. With a cry he pulled the knife away: the wolf had gone limp, but his arm was bleeding freely. He was hungry, thirsty, and tired, but a yelp from Legolas reminded him that his job was unfinished.

Whirling, Elladan could see even in the very dim light what was happening. The second wolf, only made angrier by the clip of his ear, was slowly circling the young Elf, who whimpered in fear. Legolas had not thrown all his rocks, for he did not savour the thought of being unarmed against this predator. "Legolas!" Elladan cried, gaining the attention of the wolf and the Elf. At the worst moment his side cramped, and with a groan his hand shot to the pain. The wolf, seeing an opportunity, lunged. Legolas shrieked and threw one of his stones, then another, but the wolf was not to be distracted. When he reached Elladan, the Elfling fought to straighten and swung forward--he hit air--Legolas threw again--! That was when the world began to slow for Elladan. Every second stretched and stretched, and the light came. He could see the saliva shining on the wolf's jaws and the fear on Legolas's face. He was aware of the screaming in his side and his parched throat, and then--"Aagh!" And then time returned as the wolf locked on to Elladan's injured arm. He grappled, slammed into the wolf, focusing on the pain, channeling it, using it. There was more adrenaline than blood within him as he fought that wolf, stabbing and slashing and grunting, but never shouting.

Legolas stood off to the side, watching, immobile with fear. He fingered the final stones in his pocket but was far too frightened to cast them. He chewed his lip and fought tears, feeling ashamed that he did not help Elladan, yet unable to do anything. When at last one final sigh came from the shadow among shadows, the mass that was Elladan and the wolf, Legolas was frightened. Was Elladan all right? Would the wolf come for him, next? But no howls came then, no violence, only the heavy, laboured breathing of exhaustion. "Elladan!" Legolas ran to his friend. The wolf had collapsed and was bleeding atop him. Elladan made no move but to turn his head and grin weakly.

"Move him, will you?" rasped the elder of the twin sons of Elrond. Legolas nodded mutely and shoved the wolf as hard as he could. Tears leaked out despite his best efforts. "I can't do it," Legolas sobbed, shaking his head. "Elladan, I can't…"

Elladan drew in a shaky breath, and Legolas knew this took great effort. His tears fell in larger quantity as he managed a broken apology. "It is all right, little one," Elladan said, though it took much effort and the pain he was in was intense. "You have done your best." He wondered if he would ever be the same after the fight with the wolf, if his ribs would crack under the pressure.

"I…I will try again," Legolas decided, and again he shoved for all he was worth. This did little, but his determination was stronger now. A coyote howled somewhere nearby, or was it another wolf? Legolas could not distinguish. He stopped pushing, reorganized himself onto his knees, and hooked both arms over the wolf. His fingers slipped easily away. "Go on, Legolas, it is all right," Elladan lied again. "Ada will be here soon." He had not uttered such a thing before, and much was real to Legolas then: fear, danger, and a slowly-dying hope.

"No!" he refused, then deftly slid one arm beneath the wolf and the other over its back. His arms barely met on the wolf's other side. Legolas pushed his heels into the ground and tugged for all he was worth. He felt his muscles strained, feared his bones would pull apart, and knew that in moments the strain would cause him to abort, one final time, and then he felt it: the tiniest give, just a centimetre, yet it was enough. His belief in himself was greatly restored, and step by step, grunt by grunt, Legolas heaved the carcass off of his friend. Elladan helped to the extent of his ability, which was little. It was Legolas that fell back, causing a shower of dirt to fall, streaked with sweat. For moments the two boys sat, looking at each other in the darkness, their chests heaving, sweat covering them all over. Only when they heard distant shouts did their ears twitch.

"Elladan? Legolas?"

"Here! We are here! Down here!" They both shouted, the words ordered strangely. Legolas jumped to his feet as he cried out, but Elladan had to struggle more and paused in his calling. "Lord Elrond! Ada! Elrohir! Glorfindel!" They could only guess that the names were correct. At long last a torch appeared above them.

"Can you see our light?" Lord Elrond called down to them.

"Yes!" they shouted together.

It was only a matter of two hours on horseback, after much interesting use of rope and a few temporary bandages, that Elladan and Legolas were helped into the Hall of Healing. Both were relieved to be sitting down again. Legolas was drowsy, but attempted to force himself to keep awake as Elladan's injuries were seen to--the younger boy was amazingly unharmed save a bad scare. Despite his efforts, exhaustion got the better of him. His last memory was of Elrond asking, "Where does it hurt, Elladan?" Then everything went very dark, and there was no pain.

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To be continued. . .


	2. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

*****

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To pretend that you are happy when you are really very upset

Legolas made the mistake four times before remembering. 'Don't ask,' he thought to himself. 'Don't ask where Nana is.'

But the empty halls saddened his heart, and it seemed the sun would not shine. When none bore witness to his misery, the young prince rested his chin in cupped hands and watched the grey rain slide over the window panes. He imagined races, one droplet moving into another speeding up, and the boy trailing with his finger the tiny little spots of water come off the congealed splotch. Without Nana, it was difficult to believe in happiness.

When it did not rain, Legolas wandered windowless corridors. He cared not for the pale hue his skin took, nor the splitting at the ends of his hair. Why bother? For since Nana went away, no one had cared about a solitary little boy. That was what happened, Legolas realized, when everyone loved just one person. Sometimes this thought made him feel angry, for Nana should not have left if it meant taking everyone's love. Then he would feel awful for blaming Nana. It wasn't her fault, not after what the Orcs did to her.

But no one seemed to want to change at all! Everyone kept on being sad, and each sad person saddened a deal more, until at last there was nothing but sadness. At this point it was that the Elfling wandered along a corridor, at first not noticing the odd sounds. At last his ears twitched, and he wondered. It was a soft, painful keening sound that he heard. Someone was crying. There was nothing new; when was there **not **someone crying in Mirkwood?

Legolas had every intention of ignoring the noise, but upon passing an open door her peered in, strictly out of curiosity, and gasped. "Adar?" Thranduil seemed not to hear. Placing one foot before the other, Legolas crossed the room to stand before the bent, sobbing figure that was his father. "Ada." Pushing aside the desire to cry with his parent, Legolas wrapped his arms around the elder Elf and rested his head on his shoulder. "It will be all right, Ada," Legolas said. "We will go on. And we will see her again."

Thranduil raised his head, brushing away tears. His own son had found him crying. Thranduil had not cried since his wife went away, and it was unfair for Legolas to be the one to see him this way. "It will," Thranduil replied, trying to mean it.

"Really, Ada. It will," and somehow, though he knew not how, Legolas meant it. Though he knew it not.

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Brave people

"Who do we mark here?" Estel asked, to which Legolas had no reply.

Estel knelt and kissed his fingertips, then pressed them against the stone marking the burial site. His kinsman, Halbarad, lay there, a cousin never to be seen again. What could be said to this? Halbarad had been a child, yet had easiest accepted Estel, had shown him customs and later been his very close friend. What words would now ease the pain of the knowledge that Halbarad was never to be seen nor spoken to again, never laughed with or leaned upon when drunk? He was gone, and he would not be coming back.

"We mark the brave."

"Aye." The Ranger stood, looked into his friend's eyes, and repeated the words. "We mark the brave."

*****

Emmithar: Are you stalking me? Ha ha, just kidding. I am fine. High school sucks. I hate it much. When I'm through with it, and after I've finished school, I'm going to be a rural veterinarian so that I never have to talk to human, except about their animals. How exactly are you looking for me, out of curiosity? O.k., so you do have more than one. Difficult to update all of them, isn't it? Hm. Well, I'll do a new chapter for that one soon. Heh, I've got all these ideas stored up, and there are about five stories I **want** to begin. So very, very irresponsible of me. Ah, well. Anyway, how are you? Hope you're well.

Author's note: Two definitions didn't exactly work out. . .

NEXT: **Disturbed**


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